


Tall Tales (2.15)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [38]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aliens, Alligators, Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Canon Related, Episode: s02e15 Tall Tales, Flashbacks, Gabriel Being Gabriel, Screenplay/Script Format, Trickster Gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 02:00:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7201592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Da Winchesta brothers seek tha help of they crew playa Bobby while investigatin a seriez of unexplained happenings on a local college campus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

EXT. CRAWFORD HALL - NIGHT

A middle-aged playa up in a suit n' overcoat strutts towardz a impressive universitizzle building. Outside, a lil' bangin biatch up in a white dress is posed seductively, fixin her shoe.

 **PROFESSOR  
** Excuse mah dirty ass. Is you lost?

 **GIRL  
** No. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I been waitin fo' you, pimp.

 **PROFESSOR  
** Oh, is you up in one of mah classes?

 **GIRL  
** Don't you recognize me son?

 **PROFESSOR  
** We-ell, they big-ass classes fo' realz. Anyway, mah crib minutes is Tuesdizzle n' Thursdizzle mornings.

 **GIRL  
** Really, biatch? I was hopin I could peep you now, nahmeean?

 **PROFESSOR  
** Um, well, since you axed so sickly. Come on.

INT. OFFICE - NIGHT

 **GIRL  
** Such a thugged-out photo.

 **PROFESSOR  
** Oh, dat oldschool thang. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, what tha fuck can I do fo' yo slick ass, biatch? Howz tha (?) paper coming?

 **GIRL  
** Um, pimp, I, uh, I gots a cold-ass lil confession ta make.

 **PROFESSOR  
** Oh, biatch? Whatz that?

 **GIRL  
** I aint straight-up one of yo' hustlas.

 **PROFESSOR  
** Really, biatch? Then why is you here?

 **GIRL**  
(looks at his ass suggestively, hesitating, then turns around)  
Maybe I should just go.

 **PROFESSOR  
** Wait. I git dat shit. I KNOW how tha fuck you feeling, n' itz only natural. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Yo ass is lil' n' wide-eyed, n' I be somewhat of a cold-ass lil celebritizzle round here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. (Dude approaches ta her, caresses her cheek up in a lascivious n' patronizin manner.) Don't git me wrong, you a straight-up dope hoe yo, but it would be wack of me ta take advantage of you, biatch. I just, um, I just respect you too much.

Dude kisses her; her grill turns hideously grey n' rotted; he pulls back up in horror.

 **PROFESSOR  
** Oh mah god.

 **GIRL  
** What, biatch? Don't you like me no mo', biatch? (Dude backs away knockin thangs over n' shit. Biatch approaches his muthafuckin ass.) Don't you want me son?

EXT. CRAWFORD HALL - NIGHT

A JANITOR locks tha front door n' sauntas away somewhat jauntily fo' realz. A body falls behind his ass wit a heavy crunch yo. Dude turns back ta peep tha Pimp dead on tha steps.


	2. ACT ONE

EXT yo. HOTEL - DAY

Subtitle:  _One Week Later_

INT yo. HOTEL ROOM - DAY

Tha radio is playin Jizzy Gangz "Walk Away" by Joe Walsh

SAM is chillin on tha couch lookin all up in books; he rubs his wild lil' grill tiredly. DEAN is chillin up on tha bed behind him, listenin ta tha radio n' smokin suttin' messy (chili cheese fries?) from a gangbangin' finger-lickin' disposable plate.

 **SAM**  
(annoyed)  
Dude. Yo ass mind not smokin dem on MY bed?

 **DEAN**  
Fuck dat shit, I don't mind.  
(he smokes another)  
Howz research going?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know how tha fuck itz going, biatch? Slow. Yo ass know how tha fuck it would go a heck of a shitload faster, biatch? If I had mah computer.

 **DEAN**  
(nodz sarcastically)  
Hmm.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass betta turn dat down please?

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, straight-up.  
(he turns tha noize up louder)

 **SAM (loudly)  
** Yo ass know what, biatch? Maybe, uh, maybe you should just go somewhere fo' a while.

 **DEAN**  
(shuts off tha radio n' looks up, snappish)  
Yo, I'd ludd to. Thatz a pimped out idea. Unfortunately, mah carz all screwed ta hell. 

 **SAM  
** Dean, I holla'd at you, I have not a god damn thang ta do wi--

Dat punk cut off by a funky-ass bangin knock on tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. SAM standz n' goes ta tha door; he looks all up in tha peephole n' then back at DEAN, then opens tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Outside is BOBBY.

 **SAM  
** Yo, Bobby.

 **BOBBY**  
(entering, handz up in his thugged-out lil' pockets)  
Boys.

 **DEAN**  
(standin n' approaching)  
Yo, Bobby. 

 **BOBBY  
** It aint nuthin but phat ta peep you again n' again n' again so soon.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, uh, props fo' coming. Come on in.

 **DEAN**  
(bobbin BOBBY'S hand firmly)  
Thank god you here.

 **BOBBY  
** So um, what tha fuck didn't you wanna rap ta me on tha beeper about?

 **SAM  
** It aint nuthin but dis thang we working. We-- Us thugs weren't shizzle you'd believe us.

 **BOBBY (scoffs)  
** Well, I can believe all muthafuckin day.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, no, no, itz just, we've never peeped anythang like it -- 

 **DEAN  
** Not even close. 

 **SAM  
** And we thought we could use some fresh eyes.

 **BOBBY  
** Well, why don't you begin all up in tha beginning?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, um, all right. 

SAM gestures ta tha bed; BOBBY picks up tha empty takeout tray n' peers at it, sets it aside, n' sits down.

 **SAM**  
So, all dat shiznit started when we caught wind of a obit. See, a pimp took a nosedive from a gangbangin' fourth rap window, only there be a a cold-ass lil campus legend dat tha buildingz hustled. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. So we pretexted as hustlas from tha local paper n' shit.   


  
_FLASHBACK 1A (SAM POV) - INT. BAR - NIGHT_

SAM is chillin at a table wit a stocky jock pimp (CURTIS) n' a bangin hoe (JEN); da perved-out muthafucka sets a voice recorder down on tha table.

 **CURTIS  
** Yeah, we both had tha pimp fo' Ethics n' Morality.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, biatch? So why do you be thinkin da ruffneck done did it?

 **JEN**  
Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck knows, biatch? I mean, da thug was tenured, hoe n' kids. His book is like a straight-up big-ass deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Then again...  
(she leans up in conspiratorially)  
Whoz ta say dat shiznit was suicide?

 **CURTIS**  
(scoffing)  
Jen, come on.

 **SAM**  
(feignin surprise)  
Well, what tha fuck else could it be?

 **JEN  
** Well, you know bout Crawford Hall?

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, I don't, actually.

 **CURTIS  
** It aint nuthin but a funky-ass bunch of crap, itz a total urban legend yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. 

 **JEN  
** Yeah well, Heatherz momma went ta school here, n' she knew tha girl?

 **SAM  
** Wait, what tha fuck girl?

 **JEN  
** Thirty muthafuckin years ago, dis hoe was havin a affair wit some pimp yo. Dude broke it off, she jumped up tha window n' capped her muthafuckin ass. 

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know her name?

 **JEN**  
No. But they say she jumped from room six-six-nine. Git it, biatch? Yo ass turn tha nine upside down?  
(SAM nods; tha BOY laughs.)  
So now dat freaky freaky biatch haunts tha buildin fo' realz. And mah playas whoz ass sees her, biatch? They don't live ta tell tha tale.

 **CURTIS  
** Well if no one lives ta tell tha tale, then how tha fuck do tha tale git holla'd at?

 **JEN  
** Curtis muthafucka! Shut up!

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know what, uh -- Thanks a shitload muthafuckas. Excuse mah dirty ass.

ELSEWHERE up in tha bar, close up in on three blasted glasses filled wit dark bluish-purple liquid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Deanz hand slides tha fuck into frame n' takes one; da perved-out muthafucka slams all three up in succession. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM approaches.

 **SAM  
** Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dean, what tha fuck is you drinking?

 **DEAN**  
(burps)  
I don't give a fuck, dude, I be thinkin they called purple nurples, biatch? 

 **SAM  
** Okay, well listen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I be thinkin maybe we should go hit up tha pimpz crib.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no I can't up in dis biatch, I've gots some feisty lil wildcat on tha hook, I be bout ta - zzzzp - reel her in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I be bout ta introduce you, biatch.

PAN up fishnet stockings n' a tight miniskirt ta reveal a sloppy faded, heavily made up blonde girl.

 **SAM  
** Dean - 

 **DEAN  
** Starla! Starla, hey. This is mah shuttle co-pilot Major Tom. Major Tom, Starla.

 **STARLA**  
(drapin a arm round Dean)  
Enchanté.

 **SAM  
** Hi.

STARLA gags, coverin her grill, then looks up grinning.

SAM looks straight-up skeptical n' dubious.

 **STARLA  
** Sorry. Just tryin ta keep mah liquor down!

 **DEAN**  
Yeah! Dope thang.  
(confidentially ta SAM)  
Hey. Dope news. Dat hoe gots a sister.

Dude leans back tha fuck into STARLA'S arm again, both of dem grinnin suggestively.

_END FLASHBACK 1A_

Da scene freeze-frames as DEAN'S voice (present-day) cuts in.  


  
INT yo. HOTEL ROOM - DAY

 **DEAN  
** Whoa, whoa, whoa yo. Hold on a minute.

 **SAM  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** Come on, dude, thatz not how tha fuck it happened. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **SAM  
** No, biatch? So you never drank a purple nurple?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, maybe dat yo, but I don't say thangs like "feisty lil wildcat". And her name wasn't Starla.

 **SAM  
** Then what tha fuck was it?

 **DEAN**  
I don't give a gangbangin' fuck.  
(to BOBBY, takin up tha story)  
But dat biiiiatch was a cold-ass lil classy chick. Biatch was a grad hustla, anthropologizzle n' folklore. Us thugs was poppin' off bout local pimp stories.

_FLASHBACK 1B (DEAN POV) - INT. BAR - NIGHT_

Da feel of tha scene is straight-up different - we pan up tha girlz body again yo, but dis time she up in black heels n' a sleek black cocktail dress. Biatch n' DEAN each hold a purple nurple n' toast wit dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **GIRL  
** Herez to...

 **DEAN  
** Herez ta us.

 **GIRL  
** My fuckin god, yo ass is bangin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Thanks. But no time fo' dat now, nahmeean, biatch? Yo ass need ta tell me bout dis urban legend yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. Please. Lives is at stake. 

 **GIRL  
** Sorry, I just . . . can't even concentrate. It aint nuthin but like starin . . . tha fuck into tha sun.

She reaches up n' pulls his head towardz her fo' a slow kiss. SAM approaches behind dem wit a mad dubious expression n' his jacket slung over his shoulder n' shit. 

 **SAM**  
(exaggerated prissy tone, off tha hook Biatchface)  
Dean! What do you be thinkin you bustin?

 **DEAN**  
(smooth n' casual)  
Sam,. Biiiatch please.If you wouldn't mind, give me five minutes here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **SAM  
** Dean, dis be a straight-up straight-up investigation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Us dudes aint gots any time fo' any of yo' blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah Blah!

DEAN leans up in ta lick tha GIRL again n' again n' again as SAM continues blabidiblahin behind his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** Blah!

_END FLASHBACK 1B_

Da scene freeze-frames again n' again n' again on SAM'S face.  


  
INT yo. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

 **SAM**  
(sarcastic)  
Right son! And thatz how tha fuck it straight-up happened.  
(DEAN shrugs)  
I don't sound like that, Dean!

 **DEAN  
** Thatz what tha fuck you sound like ta mah dirty ass. 

 **BOBBY**  
(starin at them)  
Okay. Whatz goin on wit you two?

 **SAM  
** Nothing. No-- itz nothing. 

 **BOBBY  
** Fuck dat shit, come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass is bickerin like a oldschool hooked up couple. 

 **DEAN**  
(gettin up n' crossin ta tha kitchenette)  
Fuck dat shit, peep hooked up couplez can git divorced. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Me n' him, our slick asses like, uh, Siamese twins.

 **SAM**  
(like itz suttin' da perved-out muthafucka holla'd nuff times before)  
It aint nuthin but conjoined twins!

 **DEAN  
** See what tha fuck I mean?

 **SAM  
** Look, it, (sighs) we've just been on tha road fo' too long. Tight quarters, all dis shit. Don't worry bout dat shit. 

 **BOBBY  
** Okay.

 **SAM  
** So anyway. We figured it might be a hustlin, so we went ta hit up tha scene of tha crime.

 _FLASHBACK 2 (SAM POV)_  
  


  
INT. CRAWFORD HALL - NIGHT

Da JANITOR from tha teaser lets SAM n' DEAN (posin as electricians) tha fuck into tha pimpz crib. 

 **SAM  
** So, how tha fuck long've you been hustlin here?

 **JANITOR**  
I've been moppin dis floor fo' six years. (Turns on a light as tha three strutt tha fuck into tha pimpz crib.) There you go, muthafuckas.   
(seein SAM'S EMF reader)  
What tha heckz dat for?

 **SAM  
** Just find a wire up in tha walls. 

 **JANITOR  
** Huh. Wow. Not shizzle why you wirin up dis crib. Not gonna do tha pimp much good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! 

 **DEAN  
** Whyz that?

 **JANITOR**  
(bluntly)  
Dat punk dead as fuckin fried chicken.

 **DEAN  
** Oh. What happened?

 **JANITOR  
** Dude went up dat window. Right there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah, biatch? Were you hustlin dat night?

 **JANITOR  
** I be tha one whoz ass found his muthafuckin ass. 

 **SAM  
** Yo ass peep it happen?

DEAN sees a funky-ass bowl of nuts on tha side table n' smokes one.

 **JANITOR  
** Nope. I just saw his ass come up here, n' uh ... well.

 **SAM  
** What?

 **JANITOR  
** Dude wasn't ridin' solo.

DEAN comes tha fuck into frame, his cheeks stuffed wit nuts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Dat punk holdin tha bowl n' continues smokin dem all up in tha scene.

 **DEAN**  
(muffled)  
Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck was da thug with?

_Freeze-frame on DEAN'S chipmunk face._

**DEAN (v.o.)  
** Come on! I ate one, maybe two!

 **SAM (v.o.)  
** Just let me tell it, aiiight?

_Scene starts up again._

**JANITOR  
** Dude was wit a lil' lady. I holla'd all up in tha cops bout her yo, but uh, I guess they never found her muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass saw dis hoe go in, huh, biatch? But did you eva peep her come out?

 **JANITOR  
** Now dat you mention it, no.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass eva peep her before, around?

 **JANITOR  
** Well, not her n' shit. 

 **DEAN**  
(still muffled; SAM glares at him)  
What do you mean?

 **JANITOR  
** I don't mean ta cast aspersions on a thugged-out dead muthafucka yo, but uh . . . Mista Moralitizzle here, biatch? Dude brought a shitload of hoes up here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Got mo' ass than a toilet seat. 

DEAN laughs delightedly; SAM glares, JANITOR grins.

 **SAM  
** One mo' thang. This building, it only has four stories, right?

 **JANITOR  
** Yeah.

 **SAM  
** So there wouldn't be a room six-six-nine?

 **JANITOR  
** 'Course not. Why do you ask?

 **SAM**  
Aw, just curious. Thanks.   


DEAN chews wit his crazy-ass grill open, stuffed full of nuts.

  
INT yo. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Still part of tha FLASHBACK - They return ta tha hotel n' SAM sits all up in tha table; DEAN gets a funky-ass brew outta tha fridge fo' each of dem wild-ass muthafuckas. 

 **SAM  
** Well, no tracez of EMF, thatz fo' sure.

 **DEAN  
** And tha room six-six-ninez a load of crap. 

 **SAM  
** So what tha fuck do you think, biatch? Da pimpz just a jumper, biatch? A legendz just a legend?

 **DEAN  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. I mean, tha uh, hoe tha janitor busted lyrics about, thatz pretty weird. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **SAM  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** We oughta hit up tha history of tha building. See if any co-ed ganked her muthafuckin ass there.

 **SAM**  
Yeah, you right.  
(he opens up his fuckin laptop, then stares all up in tha screen, confused.)  
Dude. Were you on mah computer?

DEAN comes back outta tha bathroom, confused.

 **DEAN  
** No.

 **SAM**  
Oh straight-up, biatch? 'Cause itz frozen now, nahmeean, biatch? On uh, Bustyasianbeauties.com.  
(DEAN be thinkin fo' a moment, frowns, winces, n' retreats)  
Dean! Would you - just - don't bust a nut on mah shiznit no mo', aiiight?

 **DEAN  
** Why don't you control yo' O.C.D.?

 _END FLASHBACK 2_  
  


  
INT yo. HOTEL ROOM - DAY

 **BOBBY  
** But did you dig up anythang bout tha building, biatch? Or on tha suicidal co-ed?

 **SAM  
** No. Historyz clean.

 **BOBBY  
** Then it aint a hustlin. 

 **DEAN  
** Maybe not. Tell you tha real deal, our asses aint straight-up sure. 

 **BOBBY  
** What do you mean, you not sure?

 **SAM  
** Well ... itz weird. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **BOBBY  
** Whatz weird?

 **DEAN**  
This next part, we uh, our phat asses didn't peep it happen ourselves exactly yo, but itz pretty friggin weird. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Even fo' us.   


  
_FLASHBACK 3 (DEAN POV)_

EXT. CRAWFORD HALL - NIGHT

CURTIS strutts ridin' solo all up in tha campus yo. Dude hears a noise n' turns, startled, then keeps strutting, bustin up at his dirty ass. Dude hears another noise n' stops, lookin straight up. Dude strutts mo' carefully, handz up in pockets, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Suddenly a funky-ass bright light whooshes on overhead n' his schmoooove ass cringes, arms over his head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude starts hustlin yo, but trips n' falls; a funky-ass bright beam of light blasts down n' grabs his ass like a tractor beam, pullin his ass up yo. Dude screams n' flails.


	3. ACT TWO

INT yo. HOTEL – DAY

 **BOBBY  
** Aliens?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. 

 **BOBBY  
** Aliens?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. 

 **BOBBY  
** Look, even if they is real, they shizzle as a muthafucka not comin ta earth n' swipin people. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo, believe mah dirty ass. We know. 

 **BOBBY  
** My fuckin whole game i've never found evidence of a honest-to-Dogg abduction. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. It aint nuthin but all just cranks n' pranks. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah, thatz what tha fuck we thought. But...we figured we'd at least rap ta tha muthafucka. 

 _FLASHBACK 4 (UNCLEAR POV)  
_ INT. BAR – NIGHT

DEAN is seated next ta CURTIS, whoz ass has three full blasted glasses lined up in front of his muthafuckin ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM is standin nearby. CURTIS takes a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shot.

 **DEAN  
** Yo, you ought ta give dem purple nurplez a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shot.

 **SAM  
** So, what tha fuck happened, curtis? 

 **CURTIS  
** Yo ass won't believe mah dirty ass. No Muthafucka do. 

 **SAM  
** Give our asses a cold-ass lil chance. 

 **CURTIS  
** I do not want dis up in tha papers. 

 **DEAN  
** Off tha record, then. 

 **CURTIS  
** I, uh... I blacked out, and...I lost time, n' when I woke up, I don't give a fuck where I was.

INT - MYSTERIOUS PLACE

We peep CURTIS lyin on a medicinal table, bright lights up in his wild lil' fuckin eyes fo' realz. A blurry alien grill appears above his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM**  
[sitting]  
Then what? 

 **CURTIS**  
[flashin back n' forth between tha memory n' tha present]  
They did tests on mah dirty ass fo' realz. And, uh...   
[takes another shot]  
They, uh... They probed mah dirty ass. 

[SAM turns his wild lil' grill away, strugglin not ta laugh] 

 **DEAN  
** They probed yo slick ass? 

 **CURTIS**  
Yeah, they probed mah dirty ass fo' realz. Again n' a-- Again n' -- And again.  
[takes another shot]   
And again n' again n' again n' again n' again n' again n' again.. fo' realz. And then one mo' time. 

 **DEAN  
** Yikes. 

 **CURTIS  
** And thatz not even da most thugged-out shitty of dat shit. 

 **DEAN**  
How tha fuck could it git any worse, biatch? Some alien made you his biiiatch.   
[hez smirking. CURTIS glares, DEAN stops smirking]

 **CURTIS  
** They... They made mah dirty ass... Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Slow dance! 

INT - MYSTERIOUS PLACE

Close on a rotatin disco ball, pan down ta a thugged-out dizzle floor where CURTIS is slow ridin' dirty wit a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass short alien figure. 

**INT – BAR**

Cut back ta DEAN n' SAMz erection ta all dis bullshit. Freeze frame, BOBBYz voice cuts in.

 **BOBBY  
** Yo ass muthafuckas is exaggeratin again, huh? 

 _END FLASHBACK  
_ INT yo. HOTEL – PRESENT

 **SAM  
** No no. 

 **BOBBY  
** Then dis frat boyz just nuts. 

 **DEAN  
** We not so sure. 

 _FLASHBACK 5 (UNCLEAR POV)  
_ EXT. CAMPUS – DAY

SAM n' DEAN is standin over a large, perfectly round scorch mark up in tha ground.

 **SAM  
** I be spittin some lyrics ta you, Dean, This was made by some kind of jet engine. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass mean some saucer-shaped jet engine? 

 **SAM  
** What else could it be? 

 **DEAN  
** What tha hell?

 **SAM  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. 

 **DEAN  
** Seriously, dude -- What tha hell?

 **SAM  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. I mean, first tha hustlin. Now this, biatch? Da timin ridin' solo -- Therez gots ta be some kind of connection. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass mean between tha mad salty spirit n' tha sexed-Up E.T., biatch? What could tha connection possibly be?

_FLASHBACK FREEZES_

**DEAN (V.O.)  
** But what tha fuck could our phat asses do, biatch? So our laid-back asses just kept on digging. 

_FLASHBACK RESUMES (DEAN POV)_

They is poppin' off wit another college hustla

 **SAM  
** So, you n' dis muthafucka, Curtis -- Yo ass was up in tha same house?

 **STUDENT  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass heard what tha fuck happened ta him, right? 

 **STUDENT  
** Yeah, da perved-out muthafucka say dat shiznit was aliens yo, but, you know, whatever. 

 **SAM**  
[with exaggerated concern]  
Look, dude, I -- I know dis all has ta be all kindsa hard. 

 **STUDENT  
** Um, not all muthafuckin day. 

 **SAM**  
But I want you ta know... I be here fo' you, biatch. Yo ass brave lil soldier n' shit. I acknowledge yo' pain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Come here.   
[grabs his ass up in a hug]   
Yo ass is too precious fo' dis ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. 

 _FLASHBACK FREEZES  
_ INT yo. HOTEL – DAY

 **SAM  
** I never holla'd that! 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass be always sayin pansy shiznit like dat n' like dis n' like dat y'all. 

_FLASHBACK RESUMES_

**STUDENT**  
Well, um... Yeah, uh, props.   
[SAM releases him]  
Thanks fo' tha hug yo, but, uh, I be aiiight. Really. To rap tha real deal, whatever happened ta Curtis, dat schmoooove muthafucka had it coming. 

 **DEAN  
** Why is that? 

 **STUDENT  
** Dat punk our pledge masta n' shit. Put our asses all up in hell dis semester, n' gots off on dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So now he knows how tha fuck we feel. 

 **DEAN**  
[to SAM]  
It aint nuthin but all gravy. 

INT yo. HOTEL - FLASHBACK CONTINUES  
[DEAN n' SAM return ta they hotel room]

 **DEAN  
** Still don't cook up a lick of sense. But, hey, at least there be a one connection. 

 **SAM  
** Between what? 

 **DEAN  
** Da suckas. Da pimp n' tha frat muthafucka -- They're both dicks. 

 **SAM  
** Thatz a cold-ass lil connection? 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass gots anythang betta ta go on, i'd ludd ta hear dat shit. 

 **SAM**  
[lookin up in his bag]  
Wherez mah laptop? 

 **DEAN**  
I don't give a gangbangin' fuck.  
[SAM continues ta search, gettin mo' frustrated]  
Think bout it fo' realz. A philanderin pimp gets a thugged-out dead hoe fo' realz. A pledge masta gets hazed. 

 **SAM  
** I left it up in dis biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass obviously didn't. I mean, these punishments—they almost poetic fo' realz. Actually, it'd be mo' like a limerick yo, but still -- 

 **SAM**  
[approachin DEAN]  
Okay, hilarious yo. Ha ha. Where'd you hide it? 

 **DEAN  
** What, yo' computer?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, where'd you hide it? 

 **DEAN  
** Why would i take yo' computer? 

 **SAM  
** Because no one else could have, Dean! We keep tha door locked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! We never let any maidz in. 

 **DEAN  
** Looks like you lost it, Poindexter. 

 **SAM  
** Dude, you know something, biatch? I put up wit a shitload from you, biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** What is you poppin' off about, biatch? I be a joy ta be around. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah, biatch? Yo crazy-ass dirty socks up in tha sink, yo' chicken up in tha fridge. 

 **DEAN  
** Whatz wack wit mah chicken? 

 **SAM  
** It aint nuthin but not chicken no mo', Dean! It aint nuthin but Darwinism. (DEAN: I wanna bust a nut on dat shit.) All I ask from you, tha one thang, is dat you don't mess wit mah stuff! 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass done? 

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know, how tha fuck would you feel if I screwed wit tha Impala? 

 **DEAN  
** It'd be tha last thang you eva done did. 

_FLASHBACK FREEZES_

INT yo. HOTEL

 **BOBBY  
** Did yo dirty ass take his computer? 

 **DEAN  
** Serves his ass right yo, but, no. 

 **SAM  
** Well, I didn't lose dat shit. 'Cause i don't lose thangs. 

 **DEAN  
** Oh, thatz right, yeah, 'cause he Mista Muthafuckin Perfect. 

 **BOBBY  
** Okay, aiiight. Why don't you just tell me what tha fuck happened next? 

 **DEAN  
** There was one mo' victim. 

 **SAM  
** Right. Now, we, our phat asses didn't peep dis one ourselves, either n' shit. We kind of put it together from tha evidence. But dis muthafucka -- Dude was, uh, da thug was a research scientist fo' realz. Animal testing. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, you know -- a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dick. Which fits tha pattern. 

 _FLASHBACK 6  
_ EXT. CAMPUS – NIGHT

Research Scientist leaves a cold-ass lil campus building, headin towardz tha street. Dude sees suttin' shiny up in tha gutta n' stops. Dude looks round cautiously, then gets down on handz n' knees ta peep it mo' betta n' shit. It be a gold watch. Dude smilez n' looks excited. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Dude gets all tha way down n' sticks n' arm all up in tha gutta bars, tryin ta reach dat shit. Dude struggles. Close on his wild lil' grill as suttin' grabs his muthafuckin ass. Dude begins beatboxin n' strugglin as blood spattas on his wild lil' face.


	4. ACT THREE

INT. MORGUE – NIGHT

Two flashlights shine all up in a window. A window latch slides aside as SAM opens it from tha outside wit a lil' small-ass knife.  
DEAN voiceover (indicatin dis be a gangbangin' flashback)  
Cops didn't release tha cause of dirtnap 'cause they had no clue what tha fuck tha cause was.

 **SAM (voiceover)  
** So, we checked it ourselves.

Flashlight up in hand, SAM crawls all up in tha window.

 **DEAN**  
Hey.   
[tosses his wild lil' flashlight ta SAM, then climbs all up in n' shuts tha window.

DEAN opens a funky-ass body drawer n' shines his fuckin light all up in cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce yo. Dude grimaces.]  
Well, dis oughta be quick. 

[They slide tha drawer up n' gingerly peel off tha bloody blanket, revealin mad mangled remains]

 **DEAN  
** OK, dat is just nasty. 

SAM (Holdin his hand ta his crazy-ass grill n' nose, n' bustin lyrics muffled while tryin not ta breathe all up in his nose)  
Uh, yeah. 

 **DEAN  
** Mutilated? 

 **SAM  
** Looks ta me like suttin' was hungry. 

 **DEAN  
** They identify his ass yet? 

 **SAM  
** Yeah, uh, a research scientist all up in tha college. Guess where his crib was, by tha way. Crawford Hall, same as tha pimp. 

 **DEAN  
** Thatz right where tha frat pimp had his close encounter. 

 **SAM**  
Yeah. Yo, grab me dat thang, would yo slick ass?   
[DEAN slides a magnifyin light over ta SAM, whoz ass peers all up in it all up in tha corpse.]   
Thanks. 

 **DEAN  
** What tha fuck iz it? 

 **SAM  
** Looks like a.. fo' realz. A belly scale? 

 **DEAN  
** A belly scale, biatch? From what? 

 **SAM  
** Uh.. fo' realz. An alligator? 

 **DEAN  
** An alligator up in tha sewer n' shit. Come on. 

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? Well, Dean, itz a cold-ass lil funky-ass urban legend yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin' fo' realz. A kid flushes a funky-ass baby gator down tha toilet, n' it grows big-ass up in tha tunnels. 

 **DEAN  
** But no onez eva straight-up found one. I mean, th -- they not real. 

 **SAM  
** Well, neitherz alien abduction yo, but suttin' chomped on dis muthafucka. 

 **DEAN  
** This couldn't git any weirder. 

 **SAM  
** Maybe we should git some help. I be bout ta call Bobby. Maybe he run tha fuck into suttin' like dis before. 

 **DEAN  
** Oh, I be shizzle dat schmoooove muthafucka has. Just yo' typical hustled campus, alien abduction, alligator-in-the-sewer gig. Yeah, itz simple. 

_FLASHBACK PAUSES_

**SAM (PRESENT)  
** Us dudes decided ta search tha sewer anyway, so we split up, each takin one end of campus. 

 **BOBBY  
** D'you find anything? 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, I found something, just not up in tha sewer. 

_FLASHBACK_

EXT. CAMPUS – NIGHT

DEAN emerges from tha sewer n' enteres tha alley where tha IMPALA is parked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! All four tires is flat.

 **DEAN**  
Son of a funky-ass biiiatch!  
[Dude circlez tha hoopty n' findz a scrilla clip on tha ground, engraved wit "S.W."]   
DEAN  
Sam! 

INT yo. HOTEL – DAY

SAM is readin a funky-ass book as DEAN enters.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass be thinkin dis is funky? 

 **SAM  
** It depends. What? 

 **DEAN  
** Th-th-th-the hoopty son!

 **SAM  
** What bout tha car? 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass can't let tha air outta tha tires, you idiot. Yo ass is gonna bend tha rims! 

 **SAM  
** Whoa, wait a minute. I didn't go near yo' car. 

 **DEAN  
** Oh, yeah, biatch? Huh. Then how'd I find this, biatch? [holdz up tha scrilla clip. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM pats his thugged-out lil' pocket, stands.] 

 **SAM  
** Hey. Give me back mah scrilla! 

 **DEAN  
** Oh, no, no. Consider it reparations. For, uh, wack trauma. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah, straight-up funky. Now, give it back. 

[reaches fo' it] 

 **DEAN  
** No. 

 **SAM  
** Dean, I have had it up ta here wit you, biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, biatch? Right back at you, nahmean biiiatch? 

[SAM reaches fo' tha scrilla again; DEAN avoids. SAM grabs at his ass again, tacklez his ass ta tha bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! They scuffle n' fight like kids.] 

 **DEAN**  
Come on!  
Git off me biaatch!

 **SAM  
** Give it back! 

_FLASHBACK FREEZES_

INT yo. HOTEL - PRESENT 

 **BOBBY (interrupting)  
** Okay, I've heard enough. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass flossed up bout a minute afta that. 

 **BOBBY  
** I be surprised at you two. I straight-up am. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam, first off, Dean did not loot yo' computer. 

 **SAM  
** But I –

 **BOBBY (holdz up his hand)  
** Shh, shh, shh, shh! And, Dean, Sam did not bust a nut on yo' car. 

 **SAM (lookin at DEAN)  
** Yeah! 

 **BOBBY  
** And if you two bothered ta pull yo' headz outta yo' asses, all dat shiznit would done been pretty clear. 

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **BOBBY  
** What you dealin with. 

 **SAM  
** Uh... 

 **DEAN  
** I gots nothing.

 **SAM  
** Me neither. 

 **BOBBY  
** Yo ass gots a tricksta on yo' hands. 

 **DEAN snaps.  
** Thatz what tha fuck I thought. 

 **SAM  
** What?! Fuck dat shit, you didn't. 

 **BOBBY  
** I gots ta rap , biatch... you muthafuckas was tha freshest clue. 

 **SAM  
** What do you mean? 

 **BOBBY  
** These thangs create chaos n' mischizzle as easy as fuck as breathing, n' itz gots you so turned round n' at each otherz throats, you can't even be thinkin straight.

 **SAM  
** Da laptop.

 **DEAN  
** Da tires.

 **BOBBY  
** It knows you onto him, n' itz been playin you like fiddles. 

 **DEAN  
** So, what tha fuck is it, what, what, spirit, demon, what? 

 **BOBBY  
** Well, mo' like demigods, straight-up. Therez Loki up in Scandinavia. Therez Anansi up in Westside Africa. Dozenz of dem wild-ass muthafuckas. They're immortal, n' they can create thangs outta thin air. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Things as real as you n' mah dirty ass. Make dem vanish just as quick. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass mean like a mad salty spirit or a alien or a alligator. 

 **BOBBY  
** Da suckas fit tha M.O., like a muthafucka. Trickstas target tha high n' tha mighty, knock dem down a peg, probably wit a sense of humor -- deadly pranks, thangs like dat n' like dis n' like dat y'all. 

 **DEAN  
** Bobby, what tha fuck do these thangs look like? 

 **BOBBY  
** Lotz of thangs yo, but human, mostly. 

 **DEAN  
** And what tha fuck human do we know whoz been at ground zero dis whole time? 

[SAM frowns, thinking, then gets dat shit.]

INT. JANITOR'S HOUSE - NIGHT 

Da Janitor is flippin all up in a cold-ass lil copy of  _Weekly Ghetto News._

 **JANITOR**  
[Headline: 'AN ALIEN MADE ME ITS LOVE SLAVE']  
Oh, thatz a phat one.  


[Page: Alligator up in tha sewer]  
[Page:... '...CHAINSAWS FAMILY... BODY PARTS STREWN OVER GRISLY SCENE'] 

We pan up ta peep tha JANITOR [a.k.a. TRICKSTER] up in a tacky swingerz pad: velvet armchair, wildly patterned walls, big-ass mirrors. Dat punk bustin a white tank top n' red satin boxers yo. Dude whistlez ta a small, energetic dog, whoz ass comes boundin towardz his muthafuckin ass.

 **TRICKSTER**  
Come here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.   
[picks up tha dog]  
Could you eat, biatch? I could eat. Come on. 

Dude gets up n' circlez ta tha kitchen, holdin a cold-ass lil champagne flute. Da kitchen table is covered up in lavish dopes.

 **TRICKSTER**  
Somethingz missing.   
[two scantily clad dem hoes step tha fuck up behind him: one blonde, one brunette; tha pimpin' muthafucka takes whipped cream on one finger n' holdz it out; tha brunette on his fuckin left licks it off.]   
Thatz better. 

 **WOMAN  
** Mmm! (Throaty chucklez n' "mmmm" sounds.)


	5. ACT FOUR

INT. CRAWFOR HALL – DAY

Da Janitor/Tricksta locks a gate wit a key attached ta his belt. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM n' DEAN follow his ass up a staircase.

 **TRICKSTER  
** Awwww shiiiit muthafucka, I be draggin a lil ass todizzle, thugs yo. Had like tha night last night. (Dude turns ta peep dem wild-ass muthafuckas.) Lotz of sex, if you catch mah drift. 

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, hard not to. Listen, we won't be long.   
[signals ta SAM behind TRICKSTER'S back]   
Us playas just need ta check a cold-ass lil couplefices up on three. 

 **TRICKSTER  
** No problem. 

 **SAM  
** I, uh, forgot suttin' up in tha truck. Yo ass know what, biatch? I be bout ta catch up wit you muthafuckas. 

 **DEAN  
** Okay.

They turn n' begin ascendin tha stairs again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. SAM waits until they outta sight, then hurries back ta tha locked gate, pullin up his fuckin lockpickin tools yo. Dude enters, n' rummages all up in lockers until he findz a cold-ass lil copy of tha  _Weekly Ghetto Shiznit_ , wit tha headline "Aliens Abduct Cheerleaders", up in one of tha lockers.

EXT. CRAWFORD HALL – DAY

SAM n' DEAN both exit tha building.

 **SAM  
** Just 'cause he readz tha  _Weekly Ghetto Shiznit_  don't mean he our muthafucka. I mean, you read it, like a muthafucka. 

 **DEAN  
** I be spittin some lyrics ta you, itz his muthafuckin ass. 

 **SAM  
** Look, I just be thinkin we need some hard proof. Thatz all. 

 **DEAN  
** Okay, another thang Bobby mentioned was dat these suckers gotz a metabolizzle like a insect, a real dope tooth. 

 **SAM  
** Well, I didn't find any candy bars or sugar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Not even Equal.

 **DEAN  
** Eh, thatz probably 'cause you missed something. 

 **SAM  
** I don't miss thangs. 

 **DEAN  
** Oh, right, 'cause you Mista Muthafuckin Perfect. 

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? Is you straight-up still pissed all up in mah grill 'cause of what tha fuck tha tricksta did? 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass been a tight ass long before dat tricksta flossed up.

They stare at each other n' shit. From a upper window, Janitor/Tricksta is watchin dem wild-ass muthafuckas.]

 **SAM  
** Look, just...stay here, keep a eye on tha janitor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. I be bout ta git all up in his thugged-out lil' place ta peep if I can find any actual evidence before you go bargin up in n' stakin tha man! Just wait till I git back, aiiight, biatch? Okay?

 **DEAN  
** Okay! 

SAM leaves. DEAN paces. Da tricksta watches, a straight-up expression on his wild lil' face.

EXT. CRAWFORD HALL – NIGHT

Dean is still waitin impatiently. 

 **DEAN  
** Ah, screw this. 

Dean entas tha building, pokin round cautiously wit his wild lil' flashlight fo' realz. As he goes up tha last staircase he puts tha flashlight away n' pulls up a big-ass wooden stake yo. Dude hears suttin' behind his ass (Barry White), tucks tha stake tha fuck into his jacket, n' entas tha theater n' shit. On tha stage be a round red bed wit a tacky canopy n' a slowly rotatin disco bizzle. Kick dat shit! Da two dem hoes tha Tricksta materialized earlier is sprawled on it seductively, both up in lingerie fo' realz. As Dean gets ta tha stage, they crawl towardz his muthafuckin ass. 

 **BRUNETTE  
** We've been waitin fo' you, Dean. 

 **DEAN  
** Y-Y-Yo ass muthafuckas aren't real. 

 **BRUNETTE  
** Trust me, sugar, itz gonna feel real. 

DEAN laughs nervously 

 **BLONDE  
** Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Let our asses hit you wit a massage. 

 **DEAN  
** Wha... Yo ass know, I be a -- I be a sucker fo' a aiiight ending. Really, I am yo, but... I-I'ma gotta pass. 

 **TRICKSTER**  
[sittin up in tha crew]  
They're a peace offering. (As tha camera scans over one of tha hoes bra-covered breasts.) I know what tha fuck you n' yo' brutha do. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I been round a while. Run tha fuck into yo' kind before. 

 **DEAN  
** Well, then you know dat I... can't let you just keep hurtin people. 

 **TRICKSTER  
** Come on! Those playas gots what tha fuck was comin ta dem wild-ass muthafuckas. Hoisted on they own petards. But you n' Sam -- I wanna bust a nut on you, biatch. I do. So treat yo ass... Long as you want. Just long enough fo' me ta move on ta tha next town. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, i don't be thinkin I can let you do that. 

 **TRICKSTER  
** I don't wanna hurt you, biatch. And you know dat I can. 

 **DEAN  
** Look, dude, I -- I gots ta rap , I dig yo' style, all right, biatch? I mean [chuckles] I do. I mean (whew) ... n' tha slow-dancin alien -- 

 **TRICKSTER  
** One of mah underground favorites. Yeah. 

 **DEAN  
** But, uh, I can't let you go. 

 **TRICKSTER  
** Too bad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Like I holla'd, I wanna bust a nut on you, biatch. Sam was right. Yo ass shouldn't've come ridin' solo. 

 **DEAN  
** Well, I be bout ta smoke wit you there. 

[the door slams shut. Da TRICKSTER looks back up tha stairs ta peep SAM, just entered, wit a big-ass stake of his own. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. BOBBY standz all up in tha top of tha next aisle, also wit a stake.] 

 **TRICKSTER  
** That fight you muthafuckas had outside -- dat was a trick, biatch? (Dean smiles.) Hm. Not bad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! But you wanna peep a real trick? 

[A maxed playa wit a cold-ass lil chainsaw appears near SAM n' attacks. Da brunette attacks DEAN. Da TRICKSTER watches, entertained, as BOBBY n' SAM grapple wit CHAINSAW MAN n' DEAN fights tha two dem hoes.]

 **TRICKSTER**  
Ah, ha ha.  
Watchin tha action, chewin a sandwich.  
TRICKSTER Ooh. (Dean takes another hit.) Ooh! They throw his ass tha fuck into tha seats near tha TRICKSTER.]

 **TRICKSTER, clapping.**  
Sick toss, ladies muthafucka! Sick show.   
[stands]  
Dean... Dean, Dean, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   
[SAM tosses a stake ta DEAN]  
I did not wanna gotta do this.-

 **DEAN**  
[stabs tha TRICKSTER up in tha chest]  
Me neither. 

As DEAN grindz up in tha stake, CHAINSAW MAN n' tha WOMEN disappear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. DEAN pulls tha stake out, n' tha TRICKSTER falls, dead, tha fuck into a seat.


	6. ACT FIVE

SAM n' BOBBY approach.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass muthafuckas all gravy? 

 **SAM  
** Yeah. I guess. 

 **DEAN  
** Well, I gotta say... dat schmoooove muthafucka had style. 

DEAN groans, n' they stagger outside.

 **SAM  
** Bobby, props all muthafuckin day. It make me wanna hollar playa! We straight-up couldn't've -- 

 **BOBBY  
** Save dat shiznit son! Letz just git tha hell outta dodge before some muthafucka findz dat body. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. 

 **SAM**  
[pausin all up in tha car]  
Look, Dean, um... I just wanna say dat I'm, uh... Um... 

 **DEAN**  
Hey. Me like a muthafucka.   
They peep each other n' each nod. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **BOBBY comes back outta tha hoopty fo' a moment.**  
Yo ass muthafuckas is breakin mah ass. Could we please just leave?  


SAM n' DEAN exchange a look over tha top of tha car, git in, n' drive away.

INT. CRAWFORD HALL THEATER – NIGHT

A figure approaches tha TRICKSTER'S body n' standz by dat shit. Da body shimmers n' disappears; tha figure is tha TRICKSTER, whoz ass bites tha fuck into a cold-ass lil chocolate bar n' smiles. 


End file.
